


Within you

by BrokenSymphony



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Castle Black, F/M, Gen, Other, Resurrection, father-son bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:35:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23051059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenSymphony/pseuds/BrokenSymphony
Summary: Jon Snow is dead and he stumbles upon Rhaegar Targaryen while searching for his dead family. The lost son and the failed father bond under the most unusual circumstances. A fleeting moment  of comfort and solace passes between them.I am a newbie to writing and please read this one shot between a son and father who deserved a chance to meet.
Relationships: Jon Snow & Rhaegar Targaryen, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen
Comments: 7
Kudos: 79





	Within you

For the Watch ... The cold steel mercilessly cut through Jon's skin, hot blood started gushing out. Jon pushed the man and pulled the knife out, pain jolting across his whole body. For the Watch ... Jon tried to hold the second man from stabbing him, eyes desperately pleading, but he was too late. For the Watch ... Jon sank to his knees, blood pooling around him, he tried to reach out to Ghost, life leaving him slowly. For the Watch ... "Stick them with the pointy end", a distant echo or a deception, his mind conjured to ease his last moments, Jon didn't know, his face hit the ground and darkness engulfed him.

Jon woke up with a gasp, his whole body prickling like needles. The air around him was chilly but he was warm, he held his hand against his thumping heart, trying to coax it into a less wildly rhythm. "How?" Jon was confused. He touched all the places he was stabbed and he found no blood only deep marks, the only proof that what happened with him was not a dream. “I was dead, wasn’t I?”

He looked around, the place was covered with endless snow, he closed his eyes to concentrate, and years of experience as a ranger taught him how to pick up the tiniest of sounds. He heard none, not even rustling of leaves much to his dismay.

“Is this what hell looks like?” He mulled over the thought and picked himself up dusting away the snow from his body. “There must be someone, anyone”, Jon started walking aimlessly hoping the gods would be merciful enough to not isolate him in an endless snowy canopy.

"Silly boy, still hopeful of fitting in the family", Lady's Catelyn's cold voice ringed in his head and Jon panicked at the thought of unending loneliness, her laughter filling him with a sense of despair. Jon started walking briskly, eyes darting to every nook and corner. He tried to push away those nagging thoughts. He was not a Stark; he was never going to get a place among the crypts of Winterfell. The hateful gazes of the dead Starks in his dreams made it clear to Jon.

He just wanted to meet his father and hug his brother. Robb, his brother with whom he grew up and not even a day passed in Castle Black when he had not missed his brother. “Robb”, Jon called out, his hoarse voice cutting through the silence like Valyrian style. “Robb”, he kept running and calling in all directions.

His brother would come; Jon knew it with a certainty. “If Robb can listen to my voice, he would come down from seven heavens or rise from seven hells to reach me”, Jon kept shouting till his voice died in his mouth. Heart broken, hope shattered, and legs giving away to the freezing temperatures, Jon collapsed to the ground.

He let out a loud cry, a cry piercing out from his bruised heart, "I just wanted to feel belonged", Jon shouted to no one, he was crying like a child, scared and lost. Many a times, he felt abandoned. When Lady Catelyn sang her children to sleep, when Lord Stark wore a proud look for Robb, when the Starks broke their fast together. He wanted to be part of all of those tiny moments, but knowing his presence would stain the happiness, he dissolved himself into shadows, making his presence go unnoticed.

He never let his tears show afraid that Lady Catelyn will see it as jealousy and his father might feel guilty. He wished to prove to his father; though baseborn he had the strength and dignity of a Stark and he is truly grateful of their benevolence. But now, he had no one to be afraid of or no reason to prove himself. Tears came unbridled to his eyes and he never cared to wipe them off.

Memories of Winterfell brought the thoughts of his little sister, Arya. Jon wished he was alive to protect her from the vile bastard, Ramsey. Though he knew that nothing could break his sister's fiery spirit, the very thought of that monster anywhere near her chilled him to the bones. But there was no way he could save her, not anymore. He failed the one person who truly acknowledged him as one of her own.

His sworn brothers killed him in cold blood. The brotherhood he put above his family, above his love, Ygritte betrayed him without a second thought. With him gone, they will try to wipe out the Wildings and the stubborn free folk will ensure they will not go down without a fight.

While we squabble like little children over nourishing our egos, the long Night will descend upon us destroying everything we held dear, Jon was feeling bitter now. A tiny part of him wished for the curse to befall upon the people but as soon as it occurred to him, he loathed himself. "No matter what, I can't stoop so low". He gathered himself, drawing his knees together and buried his head under them. He sat in that position for what felt like eternity.

Then he heard it, a low painful moan, a whimpering. He brushed it away thinking it was a figment of his imagination. But the sound kept tugging at his heart, pulling him to reach out. He started walking in the direction of the source. Sometimes he had to close his eyes and rely on his ears completely; the sound was too feeble to pick up.

The sight before him knocked the breath out of his lungs. It was a black beast, a huge dragon curled into a ball, whimpering in pain and struggling to release itself. Jon reached for longclaw out of instinct and kept moving towards the dragon in quick footed steps. "A dragon in winter lands", the thought puzzled him. The dragons were extinct for a while now. Up close, he saw intricate red lines on its scales; it was beautiful in an otherworldly fashion. The dragon turned its head and Jon stopped in the tracks.

It growled in pain and lifted one of its wings with great difficulty. Jon noticed a huge hammer caved into its chest. Droplets of blood streaming down from the wound and the ground beneath it, was crimson. The wound looked terrible and Jon didn't understand who could come so close to a dragon and from the way, the ice beneath was almost brown, the wounded dragon was here from a long time and ideally it should have been dead by now.

He didn't know what possessed him at the moment when Jon decides to put longclaw away and went near the dragon. He carefully pulled out the hammer from its chest and the dragon shrieked in pain. Jon shut his ears with his hands to protect them from tearing up.

When he opened his eyes, Jon saw a man in place of the dragon. A wound gaping his chest where once the hammer was shoved, blood trickling down from it. Jon knelt down to examine him. The man was weak, bones protruding out of his gaunt skin. His hair was white like the moonlight, legs tied in metallic chains and a dragon chainmail adorned his black tunic. Except for the horrific wound and deathly pale skin, the man looked regal and magnificent.

When he opened his eyes, they were a deep shade of indigo, bottomless, unfathomable, and full of melancholy. "It is so cold. God knows why your mother loves this dreary place". An endearing smile crossed his pale face; his voice was strained but had the most melodious ring Jon had ever heard. Silver blonde hair, purple eyes, dragon chainmail, the only people who had these peculiar features was Targaryens. “I wished for family not the ones who tried to wipe us out”, Jon muttered under his breath but the man’s words made Jon curious.

“Who are you and how do you know my mother?" Jon inquired.

“The more important question is who are you”, the man countered back, his eyes full of affection.

"I …", Jon fumbled, "I am Jon Snow". "And", the man was encouraging him to continue. Jon didn't know why he was talking to this man; perhaps he wanted to comfort the wounded stranger. "I am the bastard of Lord Eddard Stark and a turn cloak of Night's Watch".

"No, you are the sword in the darkness. The fire that burns against cold, the light that brings dawn, the shield that guards the realms of men", Jon didn't know why the man was reciting the vows of the night's watch, and each word weakened him further, taking away the remaining amount of energy.

“The vows don't matter now that I am dead", Jon stated as a matter of fact.

"No, you are not. You have a lot of things to do", the man was nodding his head in denial. Jon stood up, unable to take this anymore.

"Is this the punishment for disgracing my vows? A stranger reciting my vows, poking fresh wounds in my heart", Jon thought bitterly.

The silver haired man held his wrist, his grip was unusually strong. "No, please don't abandon me. I have been waiting for you for so long", the man's painful voice broke Jon's resolve. He sounded so defeated, as if he was used to losing and failing.

"Why wait for me? No one ever did", Jon never hoped that somebody would wait for him. He was nobody, a lone wolf, unwanted and unloved, driven away from the pack.

"Because you are all I have got", the man's fingers brushed Jon's cheeks, an unfamiliar feeling of warmth coursing through Jon's veins.

"Who are you?" Jon asked for the second time. Each moment spent in the company of this man made Jon go through multiple feelings, of warmth and comfort, of love and belonging, of home. The man gave a broken smile, unshed tears glistening in his lilac eyes, "I am a fool and a failed man".

"So I am", Jon's voice was a whisper now. He didn't know why he was admitting this to a stranger.

"No, you are not. You still have time to mend things", the man was speaking as if he knew what Jon was up to all his life and how to set things straight and it unsettled him. He curled his fist in frustration, face turning into a scowl. "You favor your mother greatly", the man was affectionately gazing Jon.

"Do you know her?" Jon gave a quizzical look; a Targaryen knowing about the mother of a Stark bastard, nothing was making sense to him.

"She was the liveliest thing I ever laid eyes upon, beautiful, willful and fiercely loyal", the man's features softening with every word as if he was transported into the past.

"Where is she?" Jon's heart was beating rapidly, the answer he wanted all his life.

"Somewhere in the heaven", the man's voice was distant.

The words tore his heart. Deep down Jon knew his mother was no more. He knew it all along. “She never deserted me”, the truth comforted him. “I will never meet her”, the reality pained him.

"How do you know her?" The question startled the man and he gave Jon a sad look.

"I ruined her", the man turned his head sideways in shame, his voice heavy with guilt. "How?" Jon was wary now, dreading the reply. He wanted the man to be good. "With love", came the reply.

Jon felt a sense of familiarity with the stranger. When Ygritte died in his arms, he felt the same way, that he ruined her. Their love was doomed from the beginning, but he never dreamt that it will lead to her demise. "I guess I know what it means", Jon spoke falling into some kind of odd comfort with the stranger. The man gave him an incredulous look, a mixture of inquisitiveness, understanding and sadness. "Seems like we have something in common, son".

"Son", the one word, Jon craved to hear from Lord Stark all his life, the word reserved to be heard only in Jon’s little chambers, laced with guilt and shame not the way he used it for Robb, in open, full of love and pride. Hearing it from another man, so effortlessly slipping from his mouth as it was meant to be felt different but strangely not utterly wrong.

"Where are we?" Jon asked him. "The land where your mother dreamt of settling down. Once the Great War is over, settle down here. You will find great peace. I am sure", the man squeezed Jon's hand.

"I am dead", Jon admitted once again. He didn't want to disappoint the man who was so wrapped up in his own imaginations unable to grasp the simple truth lying in front of him.

"Not yet, son. Go back. Fight the dead, bring the dawn. Your family needs you, the people need you. Accomplish what I have failed to achieve", ice around them started breaking, winds howling at a distance.

Frantic, Jon clutched the man's hands, "What is happening?"

"You must go now. Our time is up. Remember son, people may turn their back on you but a king never turns his back on them, no matter what", the man remained calm; everything around them was dissolving into oblivion.

"I am no king", Jon was looking everywhere for a way out.

"Oh yes, you are. A king without a crown, a king beyond thrones", the man spoke, his eyes transfixed on Jon.

"Come with me", Jon stood up, his hands outstretched hoping the man would take them.

"I don’t belong down there", the man didn't move an inch and it infuriated Jon. "This place, it will cease to exist", Jon tried to drag the man out of this place, forcefully.

"Yes, I must return to whatever punishment awaits me in hell". Chants in high Valyrian echoed from all corners. An invisible force pulling Jon away from the man. He was holding onto him with all his strength.

"Come with me, please. I wish to know more", Jon was pleading now, and he wanted the man to come with him. He didn't wish to forego the sense of belonging he felt. He wanted to know who he was, what connects them, who was his mother.

"I am always with you. You just need to know where to look", the man spoke removing himself from Jon's embrace.

"Where do I have to look for you?" Jon knew he had very few moments left, tears formed in his eyes.

The man gave a fatherly smile, "Within you", his voice was soft, his eyes held warmth that melted the frozen barriers in Jon's heart, a balm to his years of yearning.

"I am proud of the man you have become, son", his eyes held the exact look for Jon what Lord Stark always had for Robb.

Jon woke up with a gasp, his eyes trying to adjust to the flickering lights. Ghost whined on the ground and shocked faces of people welcomed him back into the world. Jon requested for a mirror and multiple knife marks spread across his chest looked terrible. When he gazed at his face in the mirror, he dropped the mirror breaking it with a loud thud. He looked down on the ground, his reflections staring back at him from the multiple broken pieces; everything looked the same except the eyes.

His eyes were a deep indigo now, rather than a dark grey. "Within you", the words came rushing to his mind.

**Author's Note:**

> Jon has a great father in Ned but Ned has Sansa, Arya and Bran to carry forward his legacy. Though Rhaegar made terrible mistakes, he still deserved a chance to be the father his son needs and Jon is as much a dragon as he is a wolf.


End file.
